


What We Learn in the Afterlife

by ToniKitty1620



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Deviates From Canon, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Friends to Lovers, Other, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:48:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28296300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToniKitty1620/pseuds/ToniKitty1620
Summary: In the five years between the two snaps, most people found themselves struggling to find their new place in the world. Helena, however, didn't have to change much. Her routine has simply moved locations. She adapted to the new way of the world quickly. She's always adapted quickly to things. But this thing, this thing might be the one to throw her.
Relationships: Loki (Marvel)/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 9





	1. Chapter 1

The night was young, the sun having just dipped below the horizon, yet still lending just enough light for Helena to see her path. Granted, it wasn't so much a path as it was a less-thorny way to her destination. She planned to camp by her usual spot, a clearing about four miles from any property lines or the farmlands nearby. Sure, Helena did have to trespass a tiny bit to reach it, but at least she was only on that land for about twenty yards or so.

Helena had set out just around sunset, and at the pace she'd set she'd likely reach her lovely campsite just as the full moon was rising. Ideally, she'd have just enough time to set up her supplies before it reached its peak, considering she'd need it for her ritual this evening. You see, Helena had begun to teach herself the old magicks. Ever since the gods had reappeared and all those people got dusted, the world had changed. People didn’t know what to believe anymore, or where to redraw the line between reality and imagination. It scared them.

Fear however, was not the reason Helena was out in the woods that evening. After four years of practice, a simple ritual like the one she’d prepared for the evening was almost as routine as going grocery shopping. It was nothing major, just a little harvest blessing for her home garden. Her tomatoes were looking fantastic, but the cucumbers could definitely use some help. Plus, Helena always did love camping anyway. Which is why the rustling of the leaves around her little clearing escape didn’t faze her. She hummed to herself as she set up her small tent, tossing blankets and pillows inside. It wasn’t until she began unpacking her more uncommon supplies that she became suspicious. She heard what sounded like whispers, and last she checked, raccoons didn’t talk.

It happened slowly at first: The farmer she recognized- he was the one who owned the twenty yards she’d crossed earlier, came out into the tiny clearing. “Look Jim, I’m sorry for crossing your property. I didn’t think you’d mind as long as I didn’t mess with your crop. I can skirt around it next time if you like,” Helena spoke. She played cool, holding out hope that trespassing was why he had followed her, and nothing to do with the supplies she was calmly hiding away. 

“Now, Helena, you know that’s not why we’re here. Don’t play dumb with me.” Jim spoke back. “We?” Helena questioned, as people stepped into the campsite from all sides, effectively surrounding her. Some of them she knew, had seen their faces, but many others, she’d never seen before. She stilled, because Jim was right. She may not even know her distant neighbor’s last name, but she did know why he was here. “How long have you known?” Helena asked him. Jim didn’t answer, but looked down his nose at her.

She wondered to herself, how he’d figured out she was practicing magick- at what point had he decided to watch her, to gather his ‘troops’. She thought as they pounced on her, that she should have been more careful. Her appearance definitely didn’t help, many pieces of her hair braided along the sides of her head, a few small dreads in the back, and her arms covered in tattoos. But, to be fair, she looked this way long before the dusting. She also knew how most people saw magick nowadays. They blamed it for the loss of their families and friends, and accused those who practiced as witches.

The crowd seemed to be larger than before, as they pulled and tugged her away from her campsite, and back towards the old farmer’s property line. As they crossed his excuse for a fence, more of the people from the surrounding area gathered in an open field around a large wooden post, many holding various guns. Seeing that lone post, Helena realized they were going to make an example of her. She was by no means the only witch in the area, and for the others’ sake, she hoped these townsfolk were unaware of that. As the moon rose higher above them, the relative quiet was broken by shouts of witch, heathen, and other accusations and profane insults. One stood out to her though. It was spoken by Jim as he tied her to the post.

“Everyone, everyone! Settle down!” He shouted, pushing Helena to her knees, and reached out to one of the men near him for a length of rope. He continued to address his horde as he yanked Helena’s arms around the post. “I know you’re all eager to rid our community of this heathen, this witch, this damn Child of Loki, but we must be sure to take precautions. We don’t know how much of that horrible alien’s power this bitch can wield.” The old man’s speech seemed to rile the crowd up again, but Helena was caught on the term ‘child of Loki’. She’d heard that some people blamed him and his brother for somehow unleashing magick upon the Earth, but she had no idea how common that school of thought had become.

“Alright folks, let’s give a bit of room, we only want the bullets going into one body tonight.” Jim chuckled as he addressed the group, and they all wordlessly grouped in front of her as the makeshift firing squad took aim. As Helena faced her final moments, anger filled her bones. She decided spitefully that if this lot was foolish enough to believe such ridiculous things, then she might as well let her last seconds on this planet be a bit fun. She began to recite an old Norse incantation, the only one she could remember at the moment. Honestly, Helena had no clue what spell it even was, but given she was surrounded by idiots, it wasn’t as if they’d know how useless her words were given she was bound to a post. She sprinkled in the name Loki, just to egg them on more, and the crowd became even louder, and angrier. Jim shouted at her to stop, But she simply began to yell as Jim shouted the final word she’d hear. 

“FIRE!” 

There was a chorus of gunfire, and in an instant, it all went black.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Since his death, Loki's days had been long, repetitive, and entirely dull. He didn't require much food or rest, so each day in his afterlife was spent nose deep in whatever spell books he could find. He was determined to find a way to revive himself, but even his power had its limits. The tome currently in his hands seemed promising enough at first, but as the hours drifted by, Loki realized that this book would not hold the answers he was looking for. 

Deciding he needed a bit of a break, Loki headed out to wander the gardens. It wasn't until he reached the halls that he saw that night had already fallen. At least he'd be likely to have the grounds to himself then. As he strode through the corridors of hedges and rose-covered trellises, a pang of something once familiar hit him. Loki had felt this kind of magick before, but it had been centuries since he last encountered it this strongly. A sacrifice had been made. A human sacrifice. 

Moments later, the ‘sacrifice’ appeared before him in a shimmer of seidr. She was on her knees for a mere second before she crumpled at his feet, bloodied and full of holes. “They shot you?” He asked her, even though he knew she couldn’t respond. “Not very ritualistic, is it?” He sneered. He wrestled with the idea of leaving the mortal’s corpse in the gardens, until he felt that long forgotten tug. He scooped her up with a groan akin to a dramatic teenager, and carried her inside.

Loki didn’t know exactly where to take her, given this is the first time he’d received a human sacrifice in Folkvang, let alone the first one he’d had to deal with in almost a millenia. He settled on just taking the mortal to his quarters, and placed her on the sofa near his fireplace. Once he had her settled, he tried to look inside himself -as he used to- to figure out what the conditions of the sacrifice were. The sooner he could fulfill this, the sooner this mortal could go to Asgard as others had before her, and serve the palace- but he found nothing. Odd, he thought, why the Hel would anyone sacrifice someone without a reason? 

Suddenly, there was a knock at his door. Very few ever felt the want or even the need to visit the trickster god, so Loki was surprised to say the least. He got up and when he swung open the door, Freya pushed past him frantically. “Ah yes, how may I help you Freya?” Loki asked sarcastically. “Hush Loki, this is not a time for games. This mortal, I assume you’re aware she was sacrificed to you?” She asked as she made her way towards the mortal, looking her over as if she wasn’t already protected. 

“Well of course. I remember the feeling. It’s not a sensation one would forget with ease” Loki snipped back at her.

“And so you are also aware of the… unusual circumstances leading to said sacrifice?” Freya was looking at Loki with an odd look across her features.

“Do not toy with me, Freya. If you know something I don’t please do not hesitate to inform me.” Loki’s tone was firm, but curious. Freya sighed, and reached out for him. He knew what she was intending, and as much as he disliked the sensation of sharing visions, he felt he needed to know what had the goddess so worked up.

The night air was cool, the moon full. Loki saw the mortal on her knees as when she’d first appeared, but she was tied to a post, and surrounded by angered townsfolk. One man spoke to the others, insulting the girl and egging the others on. As Loki saw the gunman surrounding the girl, and heard the calling of ‘witch’ he realized that his was no sacrifice- it was an execution. The guns were raised, and they called the girl a term he hadn’t heard in millennia: Child of Loki. Before any triggers were pulled however, the young witch began reciting an ancient spell, one he recognized. It was a sacrificial incantation, but given a few near-botched pronunciations and seemingly random placements of his name, Loki started to doubt if the mortal even knew what she was saying.

Too quickly, the cold dark forest was replaced by the warm light of the fire, and Loki yanked his hands out of Freya’s grasp. This was indeed a rather unique scenario. Not very often did they have an unwilling self-sacrifice. Not ever really. It definitely didn’t help that there was no real reason, or thing asked for in return for Helena’s ‘sacrifice’.

“Well. I can see why you would be concerned,” Loki spoke after a minute. 

“Yes. I can’t do my duty until you fulfill the terms of the sacrifice. This is no ewe, no goat. This is a person, and my divine purpose is to ensure the sacrificed portion of her soul reaches Folkvang and settles in nicely.”

“I understand, Freya. However, I’m afraid I do not know where to start. I have no task, and as far as I can tell, I shall not be receiving one. What would you have me do?” As he studied the goddess’ face, he felt he could almost read her intent in her features like words on a page. “No. No, I refuse. I shall not waste so much seidr on such a task. There is no certainty it would even work!” 

“Loki, please. Have I not been kind to you thus far?” He considered her words. He had to admit, death had softened him quite a bit. Freya had gone out of her way to make him comfortable, even among people who blamed him directly for their being here. Without another word, he simply motioned vaguely to the bloodied girl on his couch. With a small thank you from Freya, the two of them got to work.


	2. Chapter 2

Before she even opened her eyes, the first thing Helena registered was the pain in her head. Then came pain everywhere else, as if the pain itself flowed through her veins. She managed to lean over the edge of whatever it was beneath her, and vomited onto the ground below. She couldn’t recall ever feeling this horrid. Her eyes were crusted pretty badly, and she struggled to open them. As she adjusted to the low lights around what she now realized was a small bed, she saw a blurry figure in the doorway. The figure, seeing Helena’s current state rushed over to help her sit back, placing pillows behind her for support.

“Where am I?” Helena attempted to ask, her voice an unfamiliar dry whisper.

“Shh hush child, don’t try to speak just yet. You must take things slowly. I’m sure you have many questions, but for now, I need you to just drink,” The figure spoke. Helena could barely think straight, and therefore didn’t question waking up in a strange bed and immediately being force fed strange liquids from a small bowl. She had expected water, or maybe a broth, and was alarmed to have a thick-ish bitter sludge hit her tongue. Helena’s first instinct was to spit it out in the same direction she had just emptied her stomach.

The kind figure simply stroked Helena’s forehead with a cool damp cloth. “I know my dear, how wretched this particular brew can be, but trust when I say you’d rather this than the pain.” Helena had to agree. The pain was too much to bear, and she’d drink a horse’s spit if it meant that it might clear. She steeled what little amount of her mind she could gather, and pushed through drinking as she was told. Once she’d downed the contents of the bowl, the now clearer woman helped her to lay back down again, telling her to rest more. Helena didn’t argue, the urge to sleep weighing on her all too quickly.

The next time Helena awoke, what she felt was less excruciating torment, and more an unrelenting flu. She vomited again, but this time, she was able to grab a container by her bed that she assumed was for that exact purpose. She felt a bit guilty for puking directly on the floor, especially since there was no trace of it now. Having heard the commotion, the same kind woman from before made her way back to Helena’s bedside. 

“Oh good! You’re awake.” The woman smiled at her, and her seemingly effort beauty made Helena wonder if she looked as bad as she felt. Looking down at herself, she saw that she was wearing a simple tunic, and was covered by more furs than blankets.

“What happened? I still don’t know where I am.” Helena’s voice sounded like her own again, but it was still very weak.

“Well, my dear, I’m afraid it’s a bit of a long story. How much do you remember?” She eyed this stranger a bit more warily than before, as she reached back into her memory. Last thing she knew, she was on her way to her usual campsite to bless her small crop…

“I was… out camping.” Helena was careful not to reveal her true intentions out in the woods.

“Now we both know that’s not entirely true. Try to remember, it’ll make the process much easier for you I swear it.” Those words caught Helena’s attention. Now, Helena you know that’s not why we’re here…

Jim. Jim had been at her camp. But why? The kind woman watched as the gears in Helena’s head started to turn. Jim had found out she was practicing. He wasn’t a fan of magick. He’d gathered a group of people… they pulled and tugged her away from her campsite… he tied her to the post...the makeshift firing squad took aim… 

Helena shuddered as it all came rushing back. Jim had killed her. Well, Jim and his band of close-minded, bigoted old sacks of-

“I know this is hard to come to terms with, even after remembering, many have a hard time accepting-”

“I’m dead. Right?” Helena interrupted the woman, as she had interrupted her thoughts.

“Well, partially yes, but technically no. You are still mostly alive.” The woman responded.

“...What? What does that even mean?”

“You see, sacrificing oneself offers a bit of a… I believe loophole is the term used in your realm.”

“What do you mean ‘my realm’? Who are you?” Helena was getting a bit angry now, which was not helping the all-over headache feeling.

“My name is Freya, and this is Folkvang, one of the realms of the dead.” There was a long pause, and Helena was simply staring at, then through Freya. The goddess spoke again, but Helena didn’t absorb any of her words. She was dead. It was odd. She didn’t feel very dead- just in a ridiculous amount of pain- but she guessed to be fair, she’d never felt death before anyhow.

“You said I was sacrificed?” Helena spoke after a few more minutes of getting lost in thought. 

“Well my dear, that’s the strangest part. Do you recall the incantation you recited at the time of your… well execution?” Helena flinched at the term, however accurate it may be.

“It wasn’t really an incantation of sorts. I was just spouting something I’d read once to scare them. I randomly sprinkled in other words, how could that have possibly worked?” The goddess made an astonished face, her eyebrows raised and eyes wide.

“Oh I’m afraid it worked. You appeared, bloodied and bullet-riddled at the feet of Loki the trickster, very much sacrificed. Unfortunately, there were not really any terms, or anything asked for in return of the ‘sacrifice’ and the only solution we could figure, to complete said sacrifice, was to fully heal you. Then, once awake and of sound mind, you could decide on the terms.” Freya explained.

“That’s insane”

“It is quite an unorthodox order to things, but-”

“No. No this isn’t right. I was muttering in old norse, then got shot a lot at once, and suddenly I’m face to face with an actual goddess of the afterlife. No way.” Helena shut her eyes, waving her arms a bit as she spoke. Freya watched her, waiting for her to come to terms with everything. “I died, but you brought me back somehow… And I’m not being punked? Ashton Kutcher didn’t get dusted did he?”

“I do not know that term. The loophole I mentioned earlier is why you're mostly alive. When someone is sacrificed, a portion of their soul moves on to the other side, and the rest of that soul stays in their physical being. The same binding magick that brought you to Loki, feeds off of his own magick to keep you alive regardless of your injuries. It puts you into a bit of a sleep, and many of your body's functions shut down. The difficult part was healing you from the injuries you obtained. Most sacrifices would merely have a stab wound or a few burns...” Helena interrupted her as she trailed off.

“If you healed me, why do I feel like garbage?” Helena asked. Her insides felt like they were actually twisted inside her gut. It was worse than her worst cramps.

“That drought I fed you though, helps to restart your digestive system. Typically, you do not feel your inner muscles’ constant work, but given yours haven’t moved in a while, it is causing you pain. This should not persist for much longer.” Freya looked apologetic that Helena was in as much pain as she was.

“If I sacrificed myself to Loki, then where the hell is he?” Helena had decided she was definitely angry. She was perfectly content with being dead. She didn’t want to die of course, but eventually everyone did right? So when Jim and his henchmen had raised their weapons on her, she counted herself at least lucky that she wouldn’t suffer. Yet, here she was, in the most pain she’d ever felt, all because a couple of so-called gods decided they needed her awake.

“He probably thought he quite deserved to rest, given he’d brought some girl back from the dead.” A voice said from the hall. A tall man with dark hair, in stark contrast to his porcelain features, stepped into the room. “Hello, Freya, how’s our new little pet doing?”

“Pet?!” Helena shouted, looking at Freya, who was busy scolding him for his choice of words.

“Now, Loki, if you want to fix all of this madness with any quickness I suggest you treat the girl with at least some respect. And you’d do well to remember she’s not dead. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you.”

“I only jest, my dear. Truly, I would like to know if she’s healing well?” Loki smirked, as if he didn’t truly mean the words he spoke.

“Well, she is sitting right here, if you have any questions about her” Helena snapped. Somewhere, she thought that maybe she should try to match the level of speech as the other two people in the room, hoping it might help with the decided lack of respect from the trickster.

Loki chuckled at her outburst though, “I apologize. I wrongly assumed you’d be incapable of speech this early into your recovery. This is a good sign is it not?” He still addressed his questions to Freya, however. Helena glared at him.

“I haven’t really healed many injuries to this degree, to be entirely honest. But I would wager that it is indeed a good sign. You’re quite strong dear.” Freya sounded impressed. Loki made a bit of an unreadable face, pointing his thumb toward the hall, he beckoned Freya away from Helena’s bedside. “Do try to rest, I shall return later.” Freya assured the girl, before stepping out with Loki. After a few minutes of pain without the stimulation of other beings, Helena decided to follow Freya’s advice and get some more sleep.

The next time Helena awoke, she heard rustling by her bedside. “How long was I asleep that time, Freya?” She asked before opening her eyes.

“Apparently not long enough to learn to confirm who you’re speaking to” Loki’s annoying voice answered. Helena simply groaned at him, looking over at him expectantly, albeit with a disgruntled expression on her face.. “Less than a day, but you’ve healed well. Your wounds have finally closed at least” Loki responded.

“How long do I have to stay in here? My legs will give up on me if I’m bedridden forever.” she asked. Her pain has greatly subsided, and if anything she felt antsy, and starving.

“Not too much longer. In fact,” Loki held up a dress he had just placed on a chair in the room, “Freya tasked me with bringing these to you as you slept. They’re Asgardian of course. I’m afraid the clothing you arrived in could not be saved. Not that I would have, though. It was quite hideous.” 

“Hey! I sewed a lot of that myself thank you very much. It’s not like the fashion business is really booming down on earth right now.” Helena spat back. Loki only chuckled at her. 

“I’ll fetch Freya to help you bathe and dress. It’s high time we got you moving again. The sooner you stop siphoning away my magick to heal, the better.” He spoke dejectedly, and as he left the room Helena decided to show the back of his head one of her favorite Midgardian hand-signs.

Freya arrived a few minutes later and assisted Helena with getting out of her bed. Her joints felt creaky and her muscles weak, but she was able to stand with Freya to lean on. Helena hadn’t expected to be so winded by the short walk from her bed to a chair by a large tub on the other side of the room. She sat and watched quietly as the goddess conjured water into the tub, steaming and clear, and added oils and salts to the bath. Helena was able to remove the simple sleeping gown she’d been living in, albeit with difficulty. Once she’d been placed into the water, she could truly smell the oils that Freya had added to the water, and feel the effects of the heat on her muscles. Even with her body more relaxed, Helena couldn’t shake her annoyance at the trickster god.

“Is he always that… irritating?” She asked Freya.

“Loki? Well, he can be a bit antagonistic at times. However, that is not always how he behaves, no.” Freya spoke of Loki with what sounded like fondness. Helena decided not to push the subject, and instead just got on with bathing, accepting Freya’s assistance when her limited mobility started to get in the way. The goddess grabbed a washcloth, and helped to scrub the grime from Helena’s skin. Helena was by no means shy, but she definitely hadn’t been bathed by someone else since she was a young child. However, it wasn’t as if she had many other options, seeing as she could barely lift her arms over her head. Merely removing that sleeping gown had pretty much taken it out of her again. 

“What is the meaning of these markings?” Freya asked casually, gesturing to Helena's tattoos. “Oh,” Helena started, having lost herself momentarily to the warm comfort of the bath, “They aren’t anything too specific, mainly artwork I liked. I do have a few runes here and there, just to help with my magick, but honestly, they didn’t seem to make the biggest difference.” Freya hummed in response, examining the runes Helena spoke of, a small smile on her face. “Part of the problem is likely that these are just slightly incorrect. The effectiveness of them does depend on the accuracy,” She remarked. Helena simply shrugged, and filed away for later to ask again about how they were meant to look.

The rest of her bath was quick but effective, Freya gentle in her cleaning and making sure Helena’s hair and skin, as well as under her nails, were pristine before she helped the girl to dress in her new gown. It was similar to the plain sleeping gown in overall length and shape, granted it had a few simple pleats and embellishments and was made from a fabric that felt like silk, but was light and had a comfortable stretch to it. Freya helped her to dry and brush her hair, careful to not damage her dreads, and skillfully re-braided the sides and top of her hair. Helena was guided out of her room, and down the hall to a small library, where Loki was seated with his back to them at a large desk, multiple large old books spread out before him. When he heard Freya enter, he turned and spoke. “Good, you’re up and about. We have things to discuss, mortal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I posted these back to back, having gotten hit with a MASSIVE wave of inspiration. Not sure how often or steady uploads will be. I have no editor other than myself, so if I make any silly mistakes, please let me know XD


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